


take a step and change your gold

by RyDyKG



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Canon Timeline, Dimension Travel, Fix-It, Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Self-Indulgent, i guess?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-16 17:14:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29579421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RyDyKG/pseuds/RyDyKG
Summary: Tommy, Tubbo and Quackity want to find each other. Theyhaveto find each other. Theyneedto find each other.So magic lets them reunite.(Fate shoves three unwilling people into the bodies of the Golden Trio, and that sets off a chain of events that will lead to something greater.)
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity & Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Comments: 19
Kudos: 117





	1. Three Months Before

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to start off with a sincere apology to all my WIPs. I’m so sorry.
> 
> Anyways HP AU ft. Tommy as Harry, Tubbo as Ron, and Quackity as Hermione (or Hermes, in this case). I wrote this in less than an hour, and there might be a few mistakes, but in all honesty I just had to get this out here.
> 
> Uh, I’m not exactly sure what to add here, but enjoy!

Tommy hates everything about this.

He hates how he has no idea about anything that he’s seeing. He hates that he has no memory of being kidnapped to some different place, where there are more people than he has ever seen in his life, and where they gaze down at his scrawny and tattered form in disgust. He hates how he doesn’t look like himself anymore.

He’s not exactly sure what happened, either. One moment, he was about to announce the grand opening of the Big Innit Hotel, and the next, he’s tucked in a cupboard.

He lasted all of an hour in that- that _prison_ , before he left that house, running away and never going back. It’s not like he _has_ to, anyways, the occupants don’t care about him.

The voices in his head egg him on. They help him fend for himself on the streets, warn him of incoming danger, but they’re a nuisance most of the time, and Tommy feels kind of bad for Technoblade, having to deal with something like _this_. They sing a lot, too. Actually, they sing most of the time, sounding like music notes repeating like a broken record.

 _Your name here is Harry Potter_ , they sing to him, chatters filling his mind as he hides behind a trash can. _You are destined to be a protagonist. No shut up, no fucking way. Dumbledore is a bitch! Ay rude he’s just misguided. Misguided my ass that motherfucker manipulated children like Dream did. Dream was worse though. Magic exists here! Find Tubbo. Find Quackity. They’re around here. They’re looking for you. Fuck J.K.Rowling. No TERFs allowed, we hate you._

Tommy doesn’t understand some of the words they say, but he pieces together enough information that he knows what to do.

There are two compasses on his body. One says ‘Your Tubbo’. The other says ‘Big Q’. He doesn’t know how they are on him, but right now they’re his only- they’re the only people he recognises. He _has_ to find them. He _has_ to get to them.

 _Find them_ , the voices hum, and so Tommy does.

A soft cracking noise is the only remnant of his existence in the alleyway, before Tomony disappears.

Tubbo shuts himself in a room — in his room, apparently. It’s not fully ‘his’ room, and he can hear others talking worriedly outside, but all he can focus on are the two compasses clutched in his hands.

He traces over the names, gently and hesitantly. _Tommy. Quackity._

The plants outside whisper to him. They tell him about everything that is happening, everything that they know, and while Tubbo doesn’t know half of the terms they are using, he recognises enough.

 _You are in another world_ , they whisper, voices dripping honey and poison. _Your name is Ron Weasley, and you are the sixth in a family of seven. Tommy and Quackity are out there! Find them. Tommy will find you. Don’t perform accidental magic now. You will start Hogwarts in three months. Fuck Rowling, we all hate that bitch. Do not trust Dumbledore! You have older brothers and a younger sister. Dumbledore isn’t that bad. No what the fuck, he’s really fucking bad._

“I get it,” Tubbo mutters. “You guys can stop now.”

The voices don’t stop. Tubbo is starting to think that he’s given Technoblade too little credit for having to deal with voices like these.

“Ron, open the door!” someone shouts. Tubbo tears his gaze away from the compasses to stare at the door. “Ron, it’s me, your mother!”

‘They’re not my family,’ he thinks, and does not open the lock. ‘You’re not my mother. That isn’t my name.’

Tubbo has never had a mother. That fact will not change now.

“Ronald Arthur Weasley, don’t make me unlock this door myself,” the woman behind the door warns in a particularly loud voice. Tubbo thinks that the name is stupid.

“Not now!” he snaps, and maybe he should feel bad for snapping at the poor woman who is probably his- this body’s mother, but he needs to make a plan, he needs to find Tommy and Quackity, and he needs to do that now. “Please.”

Luckily, she is a good mother, or at the very least an understanding person, because she lets him off. He hears her talk to someone else. They worry over him.

Tubbo feels kind of bad; he has basically maybe-not-or-maybe stolen one of their family member’s body, and oh god how would he have to act? He knows absolutely nothing about this place, and he doesn’t know what they would do if they found out that he isn’t-

No, he can’t. Tubbo has already had time to panic. He will have time to panic in the future. Right now, though, he needs to find Tommy and Quackity, and he needs to find them _now_.

Or maybe, they’ll find him instead.

Quackity blinks, and stumbles, and falls. 

The books he has held in his hands crash onto the floor, making a loud noise that makes him flinch. He could care less about those books, though, especially as a wave of nausea hits him _hard_.

He looks around wildly. He’s not back in his base. Everything looks so _weird_ and _wrong_ , and he isn’t home. There is something very wrong about the situation he is in, and it’s both because he’s in an unknown area, and because he can hear voices, talking and rambling in a bunch of languages that, strangely, he can understand.

 _You’re a muggleborn wizard_ , they chatter at him. _Your name is Hermes Granger, and this is the land of Harry Potter! What the fuck, that was so cheesy man. You have magic Big Q! J.K.Rowling can suck my nonexistent dick. Find Tommy and Tubbo! Check in your pockets, there’s compasses there. Whoops, better hope your parents don’t return. Stop standing there so shocked, someone might come in. Read the letter!_

Quackity shoves his hands into his pockets, and takes out two vastly different compasses. _Red T. Green T._

He looks around nervously. There’s nobody around, which is good, because he has parents here and he’s not quite sure how they will react upon seeing him. The books are all but forgotten as he spots a letter on the floor, and snatches it up.

Its contents are… frankly, he’s now sure that this isn’t a dream, since dreams wouldn’t be so complicated and detailed and real. The letter in his hand tells him a lot of things; like the fact that there is another society out there, for one, and that he will be attending a school, like a _child_.

Oh wait, he _is_ currently a child. An eleven year old one, at that.

Quackity takes a deep breath in, and wills himself not to panic. The voices encourage him, and he breathes until he feels like he won’t storm out and throw things all over the place.

He hasn’t seen either Tubbo or Tommy in weeks. He’s been busy with his own things, his own businesses, his own problems. But right now, they’re quite possibly the only allies he has around here, so he clutches the compasses to his heart, and prays for a miracle.

A loud cracking sound later, and he’s gone.

Here is a known truth: magic is complicated. It has many uses, both explored and unexplored, and new spells and uses seem to appear every single day.

Here is an unknown lie: the spell movements for magic are fixed. Magic is unrestrained and wild, and it cannot be boxed into a select movement or style. 

Here is an undiscovered truth: magic is built on belief. It is powered by belief, and it is belief that shapes the way it appears and is used. It is belief that powers magic itself.

Here is an undiscovered lie: magic does not have a mind of its own. It is not sentient, and it will not do what you hope for it to do. It is wild, but it is not alive.

Tommy, Tubbo and Quackity want to find each other. They _have_ to find each other. They _need_ to find each other.

So magic lets them reunite.

Two loud cracking sounds ring out, and Tubbo whirls around as Tommy stumbles to the ground, clothes tattered and hair a mess. Besides him, Quackity sucks in a sharp breath, swaying on his feet, but ultimately staying upright.

“Tommy?” Tubbo whispers, barely daring to raise his voice any higher. “Quackity?”

“Tubbo?” Quackity stares back at him, shock in his eyes. He turns his attention to Tommy. “Tommy?”

“Quackity, Tubbo,” Tommy looks at the two of them in uncertainty. “I- we…”

As if a dam has been broken, he bursts into tears. Tubbo feels himself tearing up as well, and lunges off his bed to squeeze his best friend — because despite their new appearances, he’s still his best friend, goddamnit — in a tight hug. After a while, they feel Quackity enveloping the two of them in a hug as well.

“‘M sorry, I’m so sorry,” Tommy apologises, and Quackity scoffs.

“What are you apologising for?” he asks wetly. “If anything, I should apologise. Eating Schlatt’s heart was… it wasn’t good.”

“I'm sorry too,” Tubbo murmurs tiredly. “For not- for not doing something else.”

“Shut up,” Tommy says. “You couldn’t have changed shit, and we all know it. Shut up, Tubbo.”

Later, Molly Weasley will brute-force her way into the room with a spell after her youngest son doesn’t reply to her shouts, and she will find a brunette and someone who looks eerily similar to James Potter curled up next to her son. She will call for others, for help and to figure out how and why this has happened.

But that is not right now, so the trio sleeps, their dreams surprisingly fitful.

“Accidental magic”, they call it. “Accidental teleportation”.

Magic works in mysterious ways, and for the love of their lives, the adults cannot figure out just what in the world happened for the trio to be so close in such a short period of time. They run a series of checks and spells, but nothing bad shows up. 

Not that the trio minds. They’re too busy planning with coded messages through fingers and hands, using the coded Pogtopia finger-signs to communicate. Dumbledore is in the room, after all, and while they aren’t inclined to believe the voices in everything they say just yet, it is best to be wary.

The compasses lay around their necks, invisible to everyone else but themselves. There might be ‘magic’ involved in it, but right now they could care less about the hows and whys.

They know that the adults — and Quackity _hates_ having to refer to them as adults, but he _is_ technically a child — are worried for them. But they do not have proof of anything being wrong with them, and Dumbledore does not try to peek into any of their minds after he tried to do so with Tommy, and found nothing but a thick wall.

The voices are happy to protect them, in exchange for a few things, of course.

 _Reform this place!_ the voices yell at them. _Reinvent the system! Make everyone happy! Right the wrongs! Be the Golden Trio._

“Three months,” Tubbo says aloud, but quiet enough that only the three of them can hear, huddled up beneath the blankets of Tubbo’s bed. They’ve gotten the whole bedroom for themselves, with the other Weasleys that have this room temporarily sleeping in another. “Three months until Hogwarts starts.”

Tommy squeezes his hand. Quackity rubs his hand on his back soothingly. 

They have three months to plan for a brighter future. And maybe they should be afraid, maybe they should be angry at being ripped from their homes, but-

“We’re safe here, for now,” Tommy mutters. And that’s the big thing for all of them, isn’t it?

They’re safe. They’re- well, they aren’t alright, but they are safe. 

The atmosphere is drowsy and languid, and even Quackity and Tommy have problems with being energetic and excited. They can settle more things later, discuss apologies and wrongs and maybe even argue a point or two. They can figure how this world works at a later time.

For now, they rest.

In the SMP, deep into the night when almost everybody is asleep, three particular messages appear in the communicators.

**_TommyInnit was transferred to H̸̡̙͎̋͌̽́̀̍̒̅͝͝P̶̧̦̝̜̦͖̙̮̗̼͇͂͆͋͐̏̓̽̽̈͌́̋Ư̸͔͌̎͊̈́̄̈́̄͘͝͝͠._ **

**_Tubbo_ was transferred to H̸̡̙͎̋͌̽́̀̍̒̅͝͝P̶̧̦̝̜̦͖̙̮̗̼͇͂͆͋͐̏̓̽̽̈͌́̋Ư̸͔͌̎͊̈́̄̈́̄͘͝͝͠._ **

**_Quackity was transferred to H̸̡̙͎̋͌̽́̀̍̒̅͝͝P̶̧̦̝̜̦͖̙̮̗̼͇͂͆͋͐̏̓̽̽̈͌́̋Ư̸͔͌̎͊̈́̄̈́̄͘͝͝͠._ **


	2. Three and Two Months Before

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhhh in case it wasn’t clear, these take place over the course of two-three months b4 hogwarts

_Wake up! Someone’s in the room. It’s an enemy! No stupid it’s probably just a Weasley or something. Get up. Rise and shine! Make sure that you’re safe first. Pretend to be asleep. Get up! Attack, it’s a bad guy! God chat is such an idiot. You’re a part of chat too, dickhead._

“Ron-”

The hand doesn’t even get a chance to touch him before Tubbo is shooting awake, grabbing the arm with a firm grip, a snarl on his face as he looks up… and falters.

Someone else is staring back at him in surprise and shock. The guy looks like… he looks a lot like himself. Or, well, Ron Weasley. Tubbo’s grip loosens, and he takes the chance to rip his arm out of his grip.

“What was that?” he asks Tubbo, genuine confusion in his voice. “I don’t recall you having such a good grip before.”

_It’s Percy! Oh god it’s fucking Percy. Ooh, the ministry suck-up. Don’t hate on him, he’s doing his best. Yeah, but his best is shit. Percy Weasley, your third oldest brother I think. No, that’s Charlie. Charlie’s the second oldest, you fake fan._

Tubbo shrugs. “Uh huh.”

Percy squints at him. “Yeah, well, two muggles and Professor Dumbledore are waiting downstairs, with everyone else. You three have been out for a long time.”

“Sleeping in again, ickle Ronnikins?” someone else wearing red pokes their head into the room, followed by another. The two of them look really similar — twins, maybe? 

Tubbo shifts to make himself sit in front of Tommy and Quackity, both of whom are still asleep.

“Maybe,” he says slowly. “Now get out of my room.”

“This isn’t just your room, Ron,” the other twin, the one wearing yellow, speaks up with a mocking tone. “It’s ours too, or have you forgotten while you were busy sleeping?”

“Maybe little Ronald got so excited that he just couldn’t remember,” the red twin laughs, and Tubbo’s fists clench at his sides.

“Shut the fuck up,” he hears Tommy groan, as he sits up. “Jeez, you’re so fucking loud.”

Ignoring the scandalised look Percy has on his face, and the surprised ones the twins have, Tubbo turns to Tommy. “That’s kind of hypocritical of you, big man.”

Tommy’s face scrunches up, like the way it does whenever he wakes up too early and doesn’t have the energy to think correctly yet. “What?”

“Nothing,” Tubbo hums. “People are waiting downstairs. You wanna do the honours of waking Big Q up, or can I do it?”

Tommy’s gaze shifts to the other three still in the room. “Only once they get out.”

“You heard the man,” Tubbo turns back to his brothers — can he even call them ‘his’ brothers? Probably not, he doesn’t have a family — with a small grin. “Out you three go. We’ll be out in a few, I promise.”

He continues staring with a small grin, until the other three get uncomfortable enough to leave the room, then only does he allow himself to relax from the unconsciously tense position he’s been in. “Right. We’ll have to discuss these soon.”

“Right,” Tommy agrees, scooting closer to Quackity. “But for now…”

He leans down to whisper-shout, “There’s a new batch of ‘drugs’ coming!”

Almost instantly, Quackity shoots awake, nearly hitting Tommy’s face in the process. “What? Where?!”

Tommy cackles, bright and warm, and despite the disappointment he’s probably facing, Quackity starts laughing too.

Tubbo smiles. Things will be okay.

Things are not that okay.

_This is so embarrassing to watch. Fuck Dumbledore honestly, he doesn’t deserve rights. Is Dumbledore gay? J.K.Rowling’s retcons are really getting on my nerves. Protect Tommy and Tubbo! Hold hands, chat, we’ll get through this together. Honestly Bill is hotter than I remember him being. Now, now, let’s stop being gay chat. Hey, is Quackity okay?_

‘No,’ Quackity wants to yell that thought out loud, but unfortunately, he’s stuck between two people who he should know but doesn’t, and away from the two people who he shouldn’t know but does.

Tommy meets his eyes from where he’s trying to inch away from Dumbledore and closer to Tubbo, and they share an understanding look. Quackity should probably feel happy to be reunited with his ‘family’, but all he can think of is how his ‘mother’s’ perfume smells a little too similar to Schlatt’s for his liking.”

“Is something wrong, Hermes?” 

There’s that name again. ‘Hermes’. It’s not a bad name, per say, but Quackity has had enough of mythology themed names throughout his lifetime.

Still, he offers a small smile, and shakes his head. “Nothing’s wrong.”

_Everything’s wrong. Stop lying to yourself haha. Mrs Granger is kind of pretty though. Fuck TERFs! Hold hands, chat. You should try and pretend for a while longer. Ew can you drag Dumbledore away from Tommy? Fuck Dumbles. Head to the library to read up on things! True, you don’t know much about this place. It fits with Hermione Granger too. Isn’t it Hermes?_

“Do you have a library?” Quackity asks out loud, and shrinks back when everyone turns to stare at him.

Molly Weasley answers him. “Well, it isn’t a conventional library, but we certainly have a few books. Would you like to look at them?”

“Yeah,” Quackity nods, and his ‘parents’ chuckle.

“Our Hermes has always been such a bookworm,” his ‘father’ explains, with relief in his voice. “That hasn’t changed at all, has it?”

At the urging of his chat, Quackity groans dramatically. “Dad, stop it! I just wanted to read more about Hogwarts!”

At those words, Dumbledore speaks up, and Quackity shivers at the tone that he is using. “I think me and your parents have quite a few things to discuss, so it should be fine for you to head up now. Do you know where you’re going, Miss Granger?”

“I can lead her there!” Tubbo is quick to offer. “And To- and Harry too, if he wants it.”

“Yeah, I will,” Tommy grins, sliding off his chair. “Now?”

“Now!” Tubbo laughs, and Quackity rushes to follow Tubbo, a bright grin on his face.

Sure, he should probably be worried about what Dumbledore wants to discuss, but the old wizard is convinced that they are who they ‘were’, so Quackity doesn’t really need to worry now.

Tubbo is fervently reading up on Hogwarts’ staircase system when he hears a loud groan.

“The system sucks,” Quackity announces, marching to them with a scowl as he slammed a book down onto the table. “There is so much corruption in the government that I don’t even know where to start. They taught us about how a good government should work back in law school, and the British Ministry is breaking so many fucking rules right now.”

“God, Technoblade would blow a fit right now,” Tubbo mutters, and despite the bad memories that naturally come with mentioning his name, the other two still chuckle. Dealing with trauma by pretending that nothing is wrong is probably unhealthy, but it works, so why not?

“Still, though, this sucks,” Quackity gripes, taking a seat as he waves his hands around, “I mean, I’m pretty sure that there are at least six corrupt people who are holding seats in the official council or whatever. And maybe that’s just missing information, but I’m pretty sure there was a guy who didn’t even get a trial, because ‘he was clearly guilty’. But like, a single, clean finger left behind when there were explosions? Something doesn’t add up here.”

“Maybe you could force the ministry to give him a trial,” Tommy jokes. Except, when Tubbo looks at Quackity, he’s pretty sure that the older is actually considering it.

“Maybe I will,” he agrees. “But, fuck, I’m pretty sure that, as a ‘Muggleborn’ or whatever, I probably won’t be listened to as much. I think I might have to go for a different option.”

“You probably should,” Tubbo agrees. “But you'll figure out a way, won’t you?”

“Yeah I’ll figure out a way,” Quackity states confidently, and neither Tubbo or Tommy doubt that for one second.

**A smiling mask stares deep into his soul. A sword is pointed at his chest.**

**“Items in the hole, Tommy.”**

**“Please, no, not my baby!” someone begs. There’s cruel and mocking laughter, and a bright green light.**

**“Avada kedavra!”**

Tommy wakes up with a muffled scream, pressing his hands to his mouth to not wake anyone else up. He doesn’t want to be a bother, after all, and waking people up because he couldn’t keep his voice to himself is a bothersome thing.

His hair is plastered to his skin, and sweat is rolling down his forehead. He wipes it away, and rubs it on his soft pajamas. His hands are trembling, and with a start, he realises that he’s crying.

By chance, his gaze flickers to the window, where he can see the clear, dark sky, with the Moon almost below the horizon. It’s still pretty early, then.

_Do a flip, it’ll be funny! It’s okay, Tommy, you’re fine. Fuck, that was a shit nightmare. Voldy is such a bitch, my god. He’s hot though. In what world is a snake hot? Jump off! Don’t listen to the others, Tommy. You’re okay. You’re safe. Where’s Tubbo? Is Quackity around? Dream will come eventually. No he won’t, shut the fuck up you idiot._

“Tommy?” 

Tommy snaps his gaze to stare at Tubbo, who is blinking blearily, and rubbing his eyes as a yawn escapes his mouth.

“I- yeah?” he hates how he’s stuttering.

“Is everything okay?” Tubbo’s brows furrow. “I thought I heard you scream.”

“I didn’t!” Tommy quickly defends himself. “Believe me, Tubster, everything’s a-okay. I just- I was just waking up extra early, you know?”

“No you weren’t,” Tubbo frowns. “You’re crying, Tommy.”

Tommy raises his hands to his eyes, and scowls when he realises that he is, in fact, crying. Again. God, he hates crying.

“Shut up,” he mutters, wiping the tears away once again. “I’m fine. There- it’s nothing to worry about. Go back to sleep.”

“I don’t know, I’m pretty sure it’s a big thing to worry about if your best friend is crying,” Tubbo says softly. “Was it a nightmare?”

Tommy nods. “Yeah.”

“Shit, man, that sucks,” Tubbo frowns. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Tommy shakes his head. “No,” he says quietly. “No, I don’t want to.”

“That’s alright,” his head turns to Quackity, who had apparently woken up. “Hey, wanna cuddle?”

‘What?’ Tommy thinks in disbelief, because the normal Quackity that he knows would never offer up something like this. But then again, it’s pretty early, so maybe he’s just sleepy?

“Group cuddles!” Tubbo cheers, and despite Tommy’s initial protests, he finds himself not quite minding it when he’s sandwiched in between Quackity and Tubbo.

_Awwwww. This is so cute! Group cuddles! God I’m so envious right now. Chat, let’s hold each other, but like platonically. This is adorable! Aww! Papa Q protecting his lil ducklings! Okay, but consider: Big Bro Q protecting his ducklings. Yeah that works too. They’re about the same age, right? Guys, let’s just enjoy this scene for now, yeah?_

Tommy drifts off to sleep, and luckily, the nightmares don’t return.

Quackity frowns as he reads a book on Pureblood politics. There’s something not quite right about the book, but he can’t exactly figure out what…

“What’s wrong, Big Q?” Tubbo asks him. The three of them are curled up on their shared bed, and they’re alone in the room, since both Fred and George have decided to visit their friends for today, and everyone else in the house is out.

After a lot of discussion, it has been decided that, to prevent another accidental apparition, Quackity and Tommy can stay with Tubbo until it is time for them to go to Hogwarts. Nobody else can figure out what made them stick together so much just yet, but with both their and Dumbledore’s assurances, the matter’s been let go for now.

Quackity is pretty sure that their friendship has boosted whatever plan the old coot has for them, but honestly? He doesn’t mind that much, not when he gets to stay with the only two people who he can trust.

“This book,” he says, showing Tubbo the book. “It’s about pureblood politics, but there’s something wrong about it. I’m not sure what it is, honestly, and chat isn’t helping matters.”

_Listen, I haven’t touched Harry Potter in ages. Hey, rude! Hello from Tubbochat! Hello Tubbochatters, welcome to the Quack! Ew that’s a horrible name. Like you could come up with anything better. Seems like something’s missing from the book? All of us are stupid._

“Yeah, you’re right,” Tubbo’s brows furrow as he reads through the book. “It feels like something is missing too. Like, a few pieces of information. It just- it just feels incomplete.”

“Let me see it,” Tommy demands, bringing the book closer to himself. He reads through the pages for a while, before he grins.

“I think I got it!” he says. “It’s like — fuck, what is it — they don’t talk about the Dark! See, here it says that there’s three factions or whatever: Light, Neutral, and Dark. But there’s barely any mention of the Dark in here, and Neutral is pretty light on the information too.”

“Ooh, so it’s propaganda,” Tubbo nods, after a brief check through the book. “The name checks out.”

Quackity really wants to scream at whoever decided that it would be a good idea to apply the light and dark mentality to politics. Not even Wilbur or Schlatt tried that during their reigns as president, and they weren’t the best.

“Which means we’ll have to look for unbiased books,” he grimaces. “Hey, how do we get currency here?”

Tubbo tilts his head. “Uh, my chat is saying that there’s a place called… Gringotts? We need to talk to the goblins and… oh, Tommy, they’re saying you’re fucking rich, man!”

“Pogchamp!” Tommy cheers. “Wait, when would we be able to do that?”

“We can put that on the to-do list,” Tubbo suggests. “To like, talk to the goblins or whatever. I have a feeling that Dumbledore won’t let us do that, for some reason.”

“No, yeah,” Quackity nods. “We can save that for later. Right now, though, I have to read up on the laws of this place. I mean seriously-”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel the need to clarify that ‘drugs’ do not mean actual drugs, they’re sugar. Quackity just really likes sugar. Everything’s okay.
> 
> Also, if you try to make this romantic in any way, I will steal your kneecaps and your skull.
> 
> Also also, I never actually talked about it, but all of them know about each other’s chats. Hard not to when their chat is constantly switching between the three of them. Yknow, like watching streams.
> 
> ps: can u tell I’m terrible at this


End file.
